Two weeks ago, I had my last day of 12 years of work for Anthropologie. I packed up my cat themed desk and rolled my yoga ball chair out of there to head into the uncharted waters (well, for me, at least) of grad school.

That was on a Friday.

On the following Monday, I got on the bus and headed out to Philadelphia University for a one week jacquard weaving class. I am not a weaver but I do work with textiles and the director of my MFA program thought it would be an amazing experience for me. Holy crap, was it ever. You know how it is, when one week you are mired in corporate politics and second-guessing every smart idea you’ve ever had, then the next week you get to make beautiful fabric designed by you from your own artwork and it all comes spooling out of this magical jacquard loom? I mean, pinch me.

This road I’m on is not always going to be great and I’m not so naive as to think that grad school won’t have it’s own murky politics to navigate but right now I feel like I am right where I should be and that feeling is great.

Emily Noelle Lambert is a Brooklyn based artist who works in a variety of mediums, including painting, sculpture and multi-media. I am especially digging her pieces created from handmade paper and paper pulp.

The subtitle of this post is: how a random spill plus seasonal allergies is transforming me into a minimalist, sort of.

Anyone who knows me is aware of my great love for prints, colors and collections. I have spent the better part of a decade amassing so many of them: animal brooches, small hats, paper ephemera, things with birds on them, and now I am spending the better part of wondering why I have such a hunger for all this stuff. I have spent a lot of time telling myself that I work best surrounded by piles of things I love and I canât help but wonder if Iâve been telling myself a big fat lie.

Itâs a horrible paradox that a woman who loves old musty things can be so horribly allergic to them. I dutifully go to my allergist weekly to get shots for all the molds and mildews that make me sneeze and then head home to dust off my piles of carefully displayed stuff. Though it pains me to purge anything, itâs also possible that my collections are literally killing me. And of course, thereâs the obvious, but much more terrifying question: what gaping void is in my soul that needs to be filled with material things?

So this is what I will say to the wacky, whimsical ladies out there like me: embracing a bit minimalism doesnât have to mean a life of linen smocks, polished concrete and glass topped coffee tables. You can still have your style, just have less of it. You can still have cool wall decor, but sometimes, just sometimes, let those white walls breathe. A little bit more empty space is my house has meant a little extra room for me to fit into it.

Last week, I was lucky enough to get an invite to hear artist Janine Antoni speak to some current students at my future school, University of the Arts. Antoni is an artist I have always loved and hearing so much insight into her process was really amazing. Much of her work, be it sculpture, performance, photography, or all of the above is rootedÂ in her curiosityÂ of daily human rituals such as eating, sleeping, grooming or giving birth. She often turns to her own body to process this experience-recording her dreams on an EKG machine, gnawing on giant sculptures of lard and chocolate, trussing her body upÂ over a theater and, my personal favorite, peeing out of a handmade copper apparatus off the top of the Chrystler Building.

As she spoke of her process, I thought about how much warmth, humor and investigation she clearly brings to each piece and how much I want to be able to convey that in my own art. A lot of people dismiss conceptual art for being pretentious (and honestly lots of it is) but Antoni’s art has soul.Slumber, 1993Â Performance with loom, yarn, bed, nightgown, EEG machine and artist’ REM reading

If I Die Before I Wake (mother’s hand meets daughter’s hand in prayer), Porcelain nightlight with electrical fixture

Mary,Â Raku fired ceramicMom and Dad,Â Mother, father, makeup

Umbilical,Â Sterling silver cast of family silverware and negative impression of artist’s mouth and mother’s hand

When I see something I like, I feel it in my bones. My senses get all electrified and my heart goes pitter-patter. Miuccia Prada, for instance: her topsy-turvy approach to feminine dressing is always delightful and her color palettes are just wonderful (plus, hello, giant brooches! I must DIY you.) So, for your viewing pleasure, Prada Fall ’15 paired with kooky candy-colored art. I think they pair perfectly, like a cherry on a sundae.

You know that feeling you get when youâre just ready to call the whole thing off and start over? I get that feeling all the time. In the dichotomy of fight or flight responses, I would say my preferable option is neither. I like to just ignore things and hope they go away. But recently, I chose a very different path. Let me back up a bit: Although I have a pretty creative job, Iâve never been entirely happy with its trajectory. Â I never imagined myself in a corporate career, yet here I sit, at my corporate desk, typing my corporate emails. No, this just couldnât be. So one day, I just decided it wouldnât be and I applied for grad school. And I got in.

At the beginning of June, Iâm leaving my job and going back to school to get my MFA. I have absolutely no idea what my life will look like in three months and thatâs thrilling, terrifying and awesome. There is such immense freedom and happiness to be found at the other die of âwhat ifâ.

All this change seems like a good time to hit the reset button on this old blog as well. Writing a blog is such an odd thing because it feels like sharing, but itâs often just navel-gazing. Itâs shouting out into the void without knowing if you will hear a response or just your own echo. At some point you have to decide whether itâs worth it or not, regardless of whoâs paying attention. Says the girl in her mid (ok fine, late) â30s going back to school to make conceptual art. Â Hereâs to a 2015 full of surprises.

I’m pretty much always up for a creative challenge. Â So, when beloved blog The Jealous Curator launched a monthly challenge called Creative Unblock, I was totally down. The first challenge, from artist Trey Speegle, was to take a drawing or photocopy of an image and alter it in as many ways as you can imagine. Since you are using a repeated form, this is a great way to play with materials.
I chose a vintage postcard image of Mount Rainier because the idea of altering a landscape really appeals to me. It makes me think about the way a trip to an amazing location changes you and the way you see that place. And then I let loose, as you can see from the gif above! Yahoo, can’t wait for the next challenge.
These are a few of my favorites:

This year started off with a bang, or, more accurately, a splash. A very cold splash into the Atlantic Ocean.

Yes, I did the annual Coney Island Polar Bear plunge! If you know me personally, you also know that Iâm not what one would normally call a daredevil. But what I do appreciate is some great life changing symbolism and nothing better symbolizes the re-birth that is a new year better than plunging into freezing cold ocean with 2 of my favorite people on earth and 1000 other screaming frolicking strangers! Plus Coney Island is sort of magical in the winter.
Iâm hoping 2015 is going bring a lot more uncomfortable life-changing moments for me.Â Itâs time to shake up some routines. Hereâs to it!

There are certain artistic movements and collectives that speak to a person, and for me, that would be the Bloomsbury Group. A coterie of young British artists, painters, writers and philosophers, the Bloomsbury Group was known for their liberal social values, passion for love, the pursuit of knowledge and beauty (and polyamory, but that’s another story). Though they held avant-garde views on feminism, gay rights and pacifism, expectÂ no monk-like asceticism for them: instead their days were filled with a heady mix of sex, drugs and philosophical discourse.
Often the group gathered atÂ Charleston Farmhouse, the country home of Duncan Grant and Vanessa Bell. Surrounded by rambling English gardens filled with sculpture, Charleston is something of a maximalist print enthusiast’s dream come true.
So of course, when I saw this editorial, “Amongst The Bohemians” (model Lera Tribel shot by Tom Allen For Uk Harper’s Bazaar November 2014) shot at Charleston house, I audibly gasped. Luckily, I do that a lot so my desk-mates barely bat an eyelash.